Angels Without Wings
by Anya Catalyn
Summary: A doctor is not quite as normal as people may expect, and certain doctors may figure out her secret. Other secrets are revealed as time goes on.
1. Prologue Mischa

**Author's Note:** Hey, first "ER" story, here! I actually got this idea from another story I read on the "ER" section called 'Health Hazard'. You all should read it if you like this story.

This one is supernatural and some of the terms are taken from the show "Charmed", so... Just clarifying that I obviously don't own "Charmed" or "ER" or anything in it. Mischa Monaghan, however, is my copyrighted character.

Read and review, please!

**Angels Without Wings**

Anya Catalyn, August 2004

_ Another long day, working in the ER, is finally over! _I think to myself happily as I throw open the door to my apartment. Throwing my coat on the old leather couch that used to be my sister's, I shuffle to the small bathroom to do my favorite thing of the 3 AM hour: take a shower.

After turning on the water, I glance into the mirror, noting the tired expression in my eyes. Could whitelighters ever be tired? Maybe there were still some human qualities left in me, even after my death.

It's a long, confusing story. Sometimes, _I'm _not even sure if the entire thing is real... if I've just lost my mind. Explaining the entire thing is pretty easy, and I usually have to tell myself the story many times just to remind myself of what I am. I'm a supernatural being, though I was actually murdered about thirty years ago.

Just like I am now, I was a hard-working doctor who treated each of my patients like I had known them my entire life. I tried to get to know them through their problems and found that laughter was a temporary cure to any sort of pain. Originally, I wanted to be a stand-up comedian or something that was related to making people laugh, but my parents decided that if anything, I should be a doctor. So, we argued over my future and I lost. I immediately went off to medical school and studied for years, eventually becoming an intern at the local hospital. Things just fell into place after that and within no time, I was an official doctor, running around the ER to do anything I possibly could.

The night I died seemed pretty ordinary. I had gone into an empty exam room to get some sleep after ten hours of non-stop work. The room was dark and I was preparing a hospital bed to rest on when I heard the clattering of medical instruments behind me. Just as I fully turned around, I felt something-sharp stab through my chest repeatedly. Probably four or five times, actually. That's when everything just went entirely black.

It seemed as though I had closed my eyes for about a minute before I was able to see again, but what I saw was not the exam room or anything remotely related to a hospital. It was bright and warm, like I was at the entrance gate to Heaven but there wasn't a golden gate around. Instead, a group of people dressed in pale robes was standing in front of me, waiting. To say I was nervous was to say the least but, at the same time, I was somewhat relieved. They spoke to me, asking me if I was ready to move on, or if I wanted to continue to save the lives of innocent people. Of course, I replied with the answer that if I had the chance to help someone, I would do it without question. Each one discussed this answer with the others before the leader spoke again. He told me that I was a benevolent woman and I deserved to stay on Earth as a whitelighter, angels whom had the ability to teleport from place to place and heal the wounds of good people. Whitelighters had a duty to protect the mortals of Earth and because I was already a licensed doctor, I could heal patients, so long as I did it inconspicuously. What could I say? Thanks but no thanks? Besides, the whole thing sounded pretty amazing and it enabled me to have powers that no one could ever dream of.

Since then, I've been a "whitelighter" but never in the same hospital for too long. I couldn't possibly let on that I couldn't die again, that I was an angel, that I never aged... No, that just would not go over well with my co-workers and the general public.

As of now, I'm working in the ER of Cook County Hospital in Chicago. My "boss" told me it was one of the busiest hospitals in the state and that I was needed there more than anything. The entire staff is kind to me but I sometimes get the feeling that there is more going on than medicine practicing. I feel as though there are other sorts of magical beings working in that hospital than just I. It sounds really crazy, but then again I _am _an angel working in an emergency room.

Still, I can't help feeling that I have regrets about this whole thing. There were so many things I never got to experience like marriage, graduating medical school and a lot of other things. Also, I've always wanted to know the person who stabbed me, to see his or her face, the look in their eyes. I want to know what their reason was for killing me, but I fear I'll never find out.

Before I even realize it, I'm completely clean and content after a half an hour shower. The next thing I can simply do is eat a small dinner, go to bed, wake in eight hours and go right back to work. It's the same routine everyday, except for my days off, of course. Too bad I don't have one of those for a few days.


	2. Chapter One

**Author's Note:** Mm... Didn't get many reviews on the prologue, which is kind of sad. Oh well. I'm having a bit of fun with this at the moment so I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

**Angels Without Wings**

_Chapter Two_

"Doctor Monaghan, you're needed in recovery. There's a need for refill on antibiotics."

Mischa Monaghan, the medical student that worked as an intern at Cook County General, looked up from a chart she had been holding. She gave a nod to her boss, Kerry Weaver, changing her direction to make her way to Recovery. On each of the reports she had, the patients' complaints of pain had ceased once she had worked her "magic" on them. In reality, she had used her healing powers when no one was watching her so that the patient could be on their way home on the same day. Her fellow doctors and nurses, whom had no idea how people were recuperating so quickly, considered it a strange phenomenon. They found it even stranger that it was the patients that Mischa had interacted with that were the ones who were healthy within a few hours.

As she entered, she found a young boy who looked no older than eleven lying in his hospital bed, a bored expression on his face. Mischa smiled a little and came closer, sitting in the chair next to him. "Hola, Christian. How're you feeling today?"

With a shrug, Christian looked over at her. "I don't know... I ran out of books to read."

"I meant the pain in your back, sweetie."

"Oh... Not so bad. They said someone was coming to give me some more medicine."

"That would be me," replied Mischa as pulled a bottle of pills out of her lab coat pocket, "I was told you could swallow these now. Are you okay with that?"

"Yeah... It's just like at home."

"Then here are two pills for now and the nurse will give you another two later on today, all right? They're going to make you really sleepy, too." She poured two white pills into Christian's hand.

Christian nodded once and popped one in his mouth, swallowed, then took the next one. Standing up, Mischa looked at the pile of books he had read and shook her head. "I'll see if I can find something for you to read when you wake up."

She watched Christian turn over on his side to go to sleep and Mischa took her leave, coming out into the hall.

_I should have healed him... _Mischa thought. _He really needs to get better._

The truth was, Mischa could not just heal anyone that she chose to. There were certain patients that she had been assigned to that needed to live for specific purposes. Of course, she was never told why, just that their life meant something significant to the world.

Apparently, Christian's life didn't matter.

Mischa was suddenly startled out of her thoughts when a taller figure was suddenly looming over her. She looked upward with a gulp, finding Doctor Luka Kovac with his arms across his chest, a stern expression on his face.

"Why aren't you working?"

"Uh..." Mischa searched for an excuse.

"The ER is a busy place. You can't just stand around, Dr. Monaghan. We need help all the time."

"I'll get right to it, sir," she replied in a timid tone, hurrying past the Croatian with her head lowered.

Luka watched Mischa go, an eyebrow raising with interest. He could sense the nervousness coming from the new doctor, mostly around him. There was something that wasn't right about it, either. It wasn't as if she was shyly attracted to him and was too reserved to say anything else to him. The impression he got from her was fear and suspicion. Perhaps it would be best if he looked into the matter with Doctor Monaghan. She was hiding something and he certainly intended to find out what that something was.

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The last thing that I want to do was be near that Luka Kovac fellow, especially since he rubs me the wrong way. My empathy was heightened ever since I became a whitelighter and I always felt that there was something wrong with Kovac. He isn't like the other doctors nor is he like me. In fact, the guy has an evil presence surrounding him and every time I catch a glimpse of his dark eyes, I get chills.

Sometimes, I wish I could talk to someone about this entire thing. When I think about it, I want to laugh and cry at the same time. It would be hilarious to walk up to one of my friends at the hospital and say, "Hey, I have a bad feeling about Kovac. Why? Well, I'm actually dead but came back to life as an angel and have been running around, healing people this whole time! Isn't that funny?" Then we would laugh and joke about it and everything would be all right again. I wouldn't have to feel so alone all the time.

You know what? It's really hard to accept the fact that I _am _alone. I'm in this hospital, saving the world one patient at a time. Sure, I'm willing to bet there are plenty of other whitelighters out there but none are close enough to come into contact with. Perhaps one day, luck will be on my side again and I'll be able to make a friend that I can _really _talk to. As for now, I have to get used to the idea that having a friend may never happen and I may never even find a lover.

I'm a romantic, if you haven't guessed by now.

It's about time I get some work done around here. My senses are pulling me to trauma where a stab-wound victim has just come in.

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"His pulse is failing!" Abby Lockhart yelled at the other doctors as he attempted to suppress the uncontrollable bleeding in the wounded victim.

As the team scrambled to save the life of the middle-aged woman, Mischa came into the room while putting on a mask. The patient was losing blood too fast and her life was on the line. Her eyes shifted to Abby and she scuffled over to her. "I'll try and stop the bleeding. You have more experience than I do."

"If you say so, Monaghan..." Abby sounded unsure of herself but let Mischa take over the suppressing of the stab wound. "Get some blood bags in here!"

Mischa looked down at the patient with a frown, placing her hand firmly on the woman's stomach. After a moment, warm sensation circulated from her palm into the woman's injury, slowly closing it up. Glancing upward, she made sure no one had been paying attention to what she had just done. The heart monitor began beeping regularly and Mischa quickly tore her hand away as the woman began to wake.

Doctors stopped in their tracks, wide eyed as the patient sat up, looking completely healthy.

"What the hell...?" Abby said quietly to herself, nearly dropping the blood bag in her hands.

Mischa shook her head, acting as if she had no idea as to what had just happened. Instead, she just backed off and took off her bloody gloves, tossing them in the trashcan.

All in a day's work.


End file.
